


The Loveable Miscreant

by Damsellefly



Category: Cats (1998), Cats - Andrew Lloyd Webber, Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats - T. S. Eliot
Genre: Angst and Romance, Cats, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Drug Use, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Humor, Maledom/Femsub, Masturbation, Pregnant Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:28:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27284206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Damsellefly/pseuds/Damsellefly
Summary: Rumpleteazer is up to her tricks again. But she likes to pick on one cat in particular...
Relationships: Munkustrap (Cats)/Original Character(s), Munkustrap/Rumpleteazer
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	1. Fancy A Dip?

Rumpleteazer was a notorious cat. She didn't care for anything apart from causing mischief and getting into trouble, and the more trouble she could cause, the happier she was.

But she had a secret. One she had kept to herself for as long as she could remember. Most of the time she didn't even think about it, since she was too busy stealing pies from an unsuspecting homeowner's pantry, or rifling through someone's jewellery box. The only time it bothered her was when she was lying in bed.

She would lay there and think of him.

Her hands would wander over her belly and down into her loins, as she imagined _his_ would. Touching her. Adoring her... Oh! It felt good there! His fingers, his cock... deep in her... "Uh...!" She arched back, moaning, whispering his name...

"Teaze! I know you like havin' your wet dreams about You Know 'oo, but some of us is tryina sleep, innit!"

"Shu' up, Jerry!"

Cursing her idiot brother, she tried to get back in the zone, but the magic was lost. Damn Jerry for sharing her bed! He would never understand. He was completely immune to such distractions as sex and intimacy. Being a tortoiseshell male, he was completely infertile.

* * *

One of the things Rumpleteazer really loved to do was to play pranks on people. Whether it was frightening the life out of the other cats by pretending to be Macavity, dressing up as a ghost using Jellylorum's freshly laundered sheets, putting whoopie cushions under Jennyanydot's chair, or stealing people's belongings and putting them in hard to reach places (like the main road), both Mungojerry and Rumpleteazer had readily earned their titles as the Junkyard Jesters. Rumpleteazer especially enjoyed winding up one person in particular. In fact, the angrier she could make him, so much the better! 

It was on one such occasion that she came across him, cleaning up after one of her and Jerry's latest heists. They had stolen Bustopher Jones' serving spoon and dress shirt and hidden them at the bottom of Regent's Canal. And the unfortunate individual who had the task of fishing them out was none other than the tribe's protector and caretaker, Munkustrap.

What made the job particularly unpleasant was the fact that the water itself wasn't exactly clean. In fact, it was slick with filth, filled with rubbish and engine oil, and it was dangerous too! With canal boats chugging by and moored to the bank, swimming in the wrong place could prove fatal.

Rumpleteazer rarely got to view Munkustrap up close. Most of the time, it was from afar that she saw him, fleetingly as he went about his business, never giving her so much as a second glance, let alone the kind of attention he gave to _other_ queens. Even from where she was, she could tell he was tall, with broad shoulders, a slender waist and muscular legs; Adonis-like, exuding status and power. His silver tabby fur matched the surrounding concrete, his stripes standing out like endless caverns. His tail was full and waving, barred with black and longer than the length of his body; longer than any other Jellicles' she knew. 

She watched him scan the water from his vantage point on the bridge, thinking how the stripes on his forehead and cheeks complimented his fine bone structure. It was early in the day and already his face was set with a less than pleased expression, his tufted ears facing forwards as he searched for the location of the spoon and shirt, probably wondering whether it was worth risking his life to get them at all. 

Bustopher Jones put a great deal of money into the coffers, which funded food and resources for the infirmary. And the St. James Street Cat was threatening to withdraw every last penny should his possessions not be returned in pristine condition. So yes, it was worth risking his life to prevent the tribe from starving. But, there was a problem. 

Although the spoon was exceptionally well polished, the water was as black as tar. Rumpleteazer could almost hear Munkustrap's brain ticking as the frown on his face deepened, signalling his decision. He would have to jump in. Which he did. Straight from the railings like a professional diver, disappearing into the water with barely a splash. He resurfaced, wiping water from his eyes and nose, apparently unfazed by the cold. He took a deep breath and dived down again.

She followed the ripples and air bubbles from the bank, and realised they were heading towards a large space between two canal boats. A plan came together like clockwork in her mind. It was too good an opportunity to miss!

He'd been under for more than a minute. The bubbles were growing larger and more numerous, and suddenly she spotted a ghostly figure rising to the surface. She dashed to the edge of the bank, getting there just as he broke the surface, and pounced. There was a splash and a stifled yell. Grabbing a pawful of wet fur, she locked her legs around his torso and fused his lips in a deep hard kiss. He was too busy trying not to drown to prevent the assault, so she managed to get a good feel of his throat before he threw her off.

"Wha- Teazer?! Bast almighty!"

She spat water at him, blinking through her drenched fur with a triumphant grin. "That'll teach ya to be more vigilant."

"You're lucky you didn't kill me, or vice versa! Hell, one of these days...!"

"Can't be too careful THESE DAYS."

He hissed at her. Then looked around, cursing. In his panic he'd dropped the spoon and shirt!

"Looking for these?" She held up the items he was looking for, and watched his eyebrows practically knit together with silent rage. The spats were heavily stained and the spoon was bent.

He snatched them out of her paw and tossed them onto the path. Then he pulled himself out after them and shook himself dry.

"Well? Aincha gonna help us out?"

He reached in and hauled her out by the scruff. "There," he grumbled, dumping the soggy Torbie onto the path. "Now scram, before I thash your behind so raw you won't be able to sit for a week!"

She thumbed her nose at him. "Oooh! Saucy!"

"Piss off!"

It took a lot to make Munkustrap angry. He didn't usually swear. It gave her such a thrill, wondering how far she could push him. And as she considered this, she felt a deliciously juicy sensation ignite in her loins at the thought of his firm palm on her behind.


	2. The Memory of a Kiss

Munkustrap was so angry he could barely think straight, making no effort to hide it as he passed through the junkyard gates, fixing the two sentries Pouncival and Tumblebrutus with a glare that silently dared them to say something.

Very familiar with Munkustrap's "don't fucking ask" expression, the two males moved dutifully aside, knowing better than to ask how his dip in the canal had gone, especially since neither of them had felt obliged to help, since neither were keen on getting their feet wet.

Munkustrap could tell by their innocently perplexed faces that they'd overheard the entire commotion, but he couldn't care less what they thought about it, or even if they sniggered about him and Rumpleteazer in private. The first one to so much as mention the incident would get a severe cuff across the head and a month of sentry duty, so they were wise to keep their mouths shut in his presence.

As Munkustrap headed towards the infirmary complex, he kept being plagued by the memory of Rumpleteazer's tongue in his throat; and it made him even angrier. He wasn't sure why, or even where the anger was coming from. He just knew he was going to have trouble thinking about anything else from now on. If that was the little game she wanted to play, she'd better hope she liked the taste of losing, because he'd see to it that her mischief was paid for… somehow or another.

Deep down, he knew he should have acted sooner; way back at last year's Ball. Perhaps, if he had taken Rumpleteazer aside and explained why rubbing her bottom against his hip was neither big nor clever, nor was it appropriate for a yearling to do that with her superior, then maybe she wouldn't have carried on?

But he'd been too preoccupied with the play and the Jellicle Ball and everything else, dismissing her actions as nothing more than a kitten crush that would be very short lived once she'd gotten over all the excitement of experiencing her first ever celebration.

But unfortunately, her 'flirting' continued to escalate during the course of the year, to the point where he wasn't sure how to deal with it. He tried being firm. She laughed in his face, knowing he couldn't do anything about it. If it were a young male, Munkustrap would have no problem using fear and the force of his bare paws to get the respect he demanded; but this was a female. There was no law protecting her from violence, just his own code of chivalry: "never hit a lady, no matter how much she asks for it."

But the more it went on, the more she left imprints in his mind. He would find himself agonising over her; telling himself she was nothing more than a silly little trouble maker, yet wondering how she was able to push all his buttons simultaneously. Just hearing the sound of her shrill laughter was enough to ruin his day.

A year on from the ball, he could still feel the sensation of her firm buttocks rubbing against his hip, adding to the new sensation of her soft, slightly plump lips. Could it be, he secretly ENJOYED their encounters? Could it be, he was actually curious about her; fascinated by her devil-may-care attitude to life that was unlike any female he knew.

Somehow, he just KNEW she liked it rough and dirty and was secretly begging for him to make a proper decent queen out of her, and that was why he didn't put a firm stop to her shenanigans... because he could if he wanted to. It was a distressing thought. And one that now wouldn't go away.

* * *

Jellylorum tut-tutted as she placed the shirt in the basket for washing. "No words... no words at all... stealing Mr Jones' shirt and mucking it up like this? They've overstepped the mark this time, that's for sure... I remember when they left dear old Skimbleshanks' pocket watch in the middle of the road. You almost got your tail flattened-"

"Not to mention having to endure a highly pissed ginger Scot, Hell bent on turning the furacious duo into slippers." Munkustrap leaned against the washing machine and folded his arms, his manner calm but grumpy. "They'll keep pushing their luck until someone decides to do something about it, and I don't think a slap on the paw is going to be enough."

He was alluding to having Mungojerry and Rumpleteazer stripped of certain Jellicle entitlements, such as automatic entry to the annual ball, and was a decision only the senior queen's counsel could make. Defection was a crime punishable by that, as was the murder of a fellow Jellicle. Mungojerry and Rumpleteazer had succeeded in doing neither of those things, so there wasn't much chance of the council deciding on it. Plus they're job as Jellicle spies was too much of an asset to junkyard security.

"Yes... Misto had a job fixing that watch," the Calico angora mused, completely missing what Munkustrap was hinting at, perhaps purposefully. "According to Skimbal, it's still three minutes fast. Having said that, he hasn't missed a single train."

"Well, unless you can get that shirt blinding white, we'll be forced to live on rats, mice and rotting scraps, of which there is not enough to sustain a tribe of this size, given that many of the queens are eating not just for themselves, but their unborn kits as well."

"Oh, don't WORRY Munkustrap, dear," Jellylorum assured him. "A bit of bleach, a bit of sewing, I'll have it as good as new. And you know your son is a dab hand at UNBENDING spoons. Now, why don't you get yourself cleaned up and go see Jazzie. She was looking for you earlier, though I doubt she'll be impressed with you smelling like an old pond."

At that, Munkustrap cracked a half smile.

_Ah, Jazzie..._

"Thanks Jelly. Your honesty is always appreciated."

The senior queen smiled fondly. "Don't mention it. Now let me get on with my ironing. I've still got two piles left to do."

Munkustrap was particularly concerned about the food situation, because several of the queens were pregnant with HIS kittens. Jennyanydots and Jellylorum had given birth a few months before, to a hodgepodge of varying paternities, of which a few MAY have been his, but it was anyone's guess as to which ones.

The female ability to carry kittens by multiple fathers was something that never failed to astound Munkustrap, and although he did his best to love them all, there was nothing more crippling to a tom's ego than to look after another male's young.

That's just how nature roles. Who am I to question it?

For Munkustrap, there was a constant jostling match with other males for the dominant position, and all the female had to do was pick the ones with the most desirable qualities; an opinion that could change depending on the time of year, what mood they were in or simply the weather. But it was something that had been going on ever since there had been Jellicle cats on the Earth, and would probably continue until the Earth was no more.

Three queens had decided that he alone would father their kittens, and he couldn't feel more flattered and blessed about that. It was the highest privilege indeed; one also bestowed upon his father (although Munkustrap had a fair way to go before he could even begin to match HIS prowess).

Obviously, being a father to so many was a huge responsibility, not just to keep them all safe, but also to share his love and time with them; not to mention he was literally days away from meeting his first grandkittens too. Him, a grandfather! He still couldn't get his head around it... how fast kittens grow up. "Just hearing that word is enough to make my bones creak!" He thought as he headed into the shower room.

* * *

Jazzie stood at her desk, biro in paw, too busy to even sit down. Filling out forms was probably the most tedious part of her job, but it was very important that she wrote down all the information and didn't make any errors. As she scrawled patients' names and test results in her illegible doctor's script, she didn't sense his approach until he was right up behind her, capturing her in a huge bear hug that swamped her petite frame. "Munk!" She flinched as his whiskers tickled the side of her neck. "You made me jump!"

"Hello dear. Nice to see you too."

She turned and landed a peck on his smirking lips. "I'm busy. I have to finish these records."

"I thought you were on a break?"

She grimaced. "I am... I was... I won't be long. You smell nice."

"Just had a shower."

"And you thought you'd dry yourself on me, hm?"

But he was too engrossed trying to get a feel of her body through her shirt dress to pay attention to what she was saying. "Hmmm. You're wearing something under there."

He tried to take a peek under her skirt, but she wouldn't let him. "Uhu! Later! It's meant to be a surprise."

"You can't tell me that! I want to see NOW!" He was hugging her again, making it so his hardened package was pressed into her backside. He knew she couldn't resist that! "Come on. Just a peak?"

"Munk! Stop it!" She batted his paw away, but it was no use. All too soon, his paws were up inside her dress, making her shiver and having as much fun as a kitten with a touch and feel box.

"Hmm. Lace. Silk. Wait... Are those...? Oh! They are!"

She rolled her eyes and sighed. "You like?" Her voice filled with exasperation.

"I think I'm going to enjoy watching you take them off."

She swallowed, feeling her loins start to leak as though he had commanded them to. She crossed her legs, but it was futile trying to fight it. The records suddenly seemed less important than having his large paws grope her, knowing he could have her any way he wanted. Hearing him talk like that was so strange, so arousing.

"I want to take them off you right NOW."

"Muuuunk..." She whined. "I'm workiiiing..."

"So am I... technically. Although I may be abusing my position slightly."

She turned her head to face him and couldn't help but giggle at the low tone of his voice and the evil glimmer in his eye. "I have a break soon..."

"How soon?"

"Half an hour?"

"Half an HOUR!" His face was the epitome of chagrin, like she'd just told him she'd been spayed or something. "Sweetheart, I'm not going to last that long!"

"There's nothing I can do about it... uhh, don't do that..."

"Your bum is so nice. Did you really think you could get away with wearing these and not have me molest you?" He dipped a finger into her panties, causing her to let out a short gasp. "Mmm... lace... Bast, you've soaked them! Is that just for me?"

"Stooop...!"

"Jazz? I don't mind taking over, if you two… um... need some privacy?"

Jazzie flashed a weak smile at her colleague, who was standing in the doorway, looking more than a little awkward.

"Oh... that's very kind of you, Luce. But it's ok... he'll just have to- Munk!"

She didn't get a chance to finish her sentence, because he swept her off her feet, quite literally.

"He'll just have to what?" He chuckled, carrying her out of the room, giving Luciana a wink as he passed.

"Have fun, Jazz!" Called the Abyssinian, shaking her head.

"Oh, she will."

Jazzie tried hitting him, but it was like hitting concrete, so had no choice but to surrender to being 'kidnapped' all the way to her lodgings.

Once Munkustrap entered the two room flat and made sure the door was locked, he carried Jazzie over to the chaise lounge and sat down, cradling her in his lap. She already had a paw resting on the nape of his neck, planting kisses on his jaw. All he had to do was turn his head and his lips were hers. He brushed the fur away from her cheeks and kissed deeply, his paws running over her breasts, making her sigh. "What am going to do with you?"

"I have a few ideas." His paws began to wander as he whispered in her ear, "How about a dance?"

She grinned. "I was planning on doing that later, but since you are so impatient..." She slipped off his lap, went over to the record player and touched the needle to the Jefferson Airplane record that was already in there. When she came back, he was seated in a relaxed manner, spreading his arms across the back of the chaise lounge, gazing intently at her.

The first atmospheric bars of White Rabbit filled the room. She lowered her gaze and began a slow girate of her hips, raising her arms and swivelling in time to the psychedelic beat. She looked up and saw his aqua and gold eyes had gone dark with lust, clearly approving the choice of moves.

Slowly, she unclipped the buckle of her belt and let it fall to the floor. After kicking it aside, she began to undo her buttons, starting from the top of her dress, and heard him take a deep inhale as she exposed her bra. It was indeed lacy; navy blue and embellished with a white satin jazmine in the centre cleavage, it accentuated her slightly enlarged bosoms perfectly.

The look on his face was of one appreciating a fine piece of art, but she knew the beast that simmered just below the surface. He probably wanted nothing more than to tear off her clothes and ravage her mercilessly, but remained fixed in his seat, transfixed by her as she peeled off her dress, revealing the matching panties.

Dancing in just her underwear, she approached him and he reached out, taking her slight frame in his huge palms and pressing loving kisses into the little bulge at her centre. She had initially felt self conscious about her changing body, but he made her feel like the most beautiful queen in the world without having to say a word. "Your boobs are bigger," he complimented, pulling down the material to enclose one in his rough grasp.

He couldn't really care less about the bra, she knew. It was what was underneath that mattered to him, so she unclipped it and allowed him to slip it from her shoulders, before taking one of her breasts in his mouth and sucking the nipple hard, while fingered the lace of her panties. Slowly, he delved inside. Her arms went around his shoulders, paws in his head fur as his fingers entered her, sliding into her slick cavity with ease. Her eyes closed as pleasure swept through her body and she felt so much adoration in her heart for this silver tom.

She was one of the few who would ever get to see this side of him. The cat whom Jellicles respected and looked up to, but most only got to see the stoic and dignified Protector. Little did they know of the passionate fire that burned within his heart and the love that he was capable of giving.

If she'd only known what awaited her when they'd met all those months ago, when he rescued her so dramatically from that awful place. She'd never have guessed he'd be the perfect lover, mate and soon to be father of her kittens. She couldn't have asked the Everlasting cat for more.

She felt his member pressing hard against her thigh and reached for it, sliding her paw over it, rubbing her thumb across the tip, feeling it smooth at first, growing rough at the head as it lengthened and hardened further.

He let out a moan and shoved her panties down. Once she'd shimmied out of them, he moved her to sit on the quilted seat and she opened her legs. Starting above her knee, he left a trail of searing kisses and delicate nips on her smooth fur, leading right to her glistening pussy.

She moaned as she felt his rough tongue in there, drawing dexterous circles in her folds, his whiskers tickling her thighs as their purrs reverberated through one another. She whined and leaned back on her elbows. "Baise moi! Munk... s'il vous plaît!"

He answered between licks. "J'aime quand tu parles comme ça." He loved to communicate with her in her native French. He was getting good at it, in fact.

Jazzie's claws gripped the edge of the fabric as she felt him eat her out like she was his last meal, his tongue sliding over her in velvet strokes. Her head went back. She knew she was moaning loudly. The heat building within her until it reached dizzying highs and his mouth captured her orgasm, licking up every last drop of her, sucking on the nub of her pretty little clitoris until her whole body jerked and spasmed. She felt the overwhelming urge to close her legs, but he held them open, enjoying doling out this ecstasy torture.

The only thing to do was relax into it, and soon she felt heat building again. She was nothing more than his little fuck toy, totally at his mercy, practically mewing. "Munk...! Je te veux tellement mon amour!"

"Patience, doux ange. Il faut aller lentement." Crawling over her, he shifted her hips, moving her into position, then moved his paw to line his cock up with her slick entrance, his tip edging her, raising goosebumps on Jazzie's skin. When he entered her fully, he swallowed up her moan in a passionate kiss and she closed her eyes, both at the feeling of him inside her and at all that he tried to communicate to her by his lips on hers, his tongue massaging hers and Jazzie gently nibbling Munkustrap's lower lip, as he started up a series of slow, controlled thrusts. His free hand cradled her neck, just under her jaw and she kept Munkustrap close, holding onto his broad back, tilting her pelvis towards him, feeling the sharp pain of his spines scraping down her walls, one that set that familiar heat building inside her.

He moved with great care, keeping his weight on his forearms, conscious of not wanting to harm the previous cargo she was carrying. It made her extra sensitive and his breath quickened. He could feel her squeezing him already, her cunt pulsing in a way that sent him over the edge and his movements hastened, his hips butting lightly against hers as he chased his own pleasure, pushing the limits on what could be counted as gentle, but still careful not to let his urges get the better of him.

They shared short, ragged breaths, panting from the sudden warmth surrounding them. "Munku," she whimpered, her legs tightening around his hips, squeezing them together, making Munkustrap's movements more rigid and lengthy, prolonging their connection.

His hand supporting Jazzie's back slipped lower, groping her behind, the firm flesh yielding beautifully, her fur silky in his palm as he praised, "Tu es si belle Jazzie, tu es si parfaite." Through gritted teeth, Munkustrap continued, his whiskers tickling the corners of Jazzie's lips, "You're everything Jazzie."

At his words, Jazzie moaned and whimpered, her eyes screwing shut from the ecstasy of it, his praises only bringing her nearer to her climax, "I love you," her voice breathy and hoarse, "Munkus… Oh putain…!"

Jazzie buried her face in Munkustrap's neck as her lower abdomen clenched, her orgasm coming in a series of powerful waves like she'd never felt before. Hanging onto him, she cried out as he rode her through it, his breaths coming in short ragged gasps until finally she felt the familiar warm wetness, his groan faltering next to her ear as his whole body shuddered to a contented, relaxed halt. Her fingers curled around the long tufts of his fur as the throbbing in her core subsided, surrounded by his great bulk, his massive shoulders, not wanting this moment to end.

He murmured softly in her ear. "You ok, babe? Didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No." She kissed his face, her voice husky. "That was amazing."

"So were you, angel. Scared me for a moment there... when you screamed like that."

"Was I screaming?"

"Be surprised if the entire infirmary didn't hear you." She caught a vague smirk on the side of his lips, deepening the dimple in his cheek. But then he brought his face close to hers, his expression turning back to serious. "You sure you're ok? Kits all fine?"

She smiled. "A little twinge, nothing more. Probably wondering what we're up to." She kissed his beautiful face again, loving to see him so concerned for her. "I love you."

"I love you too." Lifting up a little, he planted a kiss on her abdomen. "All of you."


	3. Being So Close

Sitting behind a large pipe, Rumpleteazer spied on Munkustrap, jealousy burning hot in her eyes. Why did he give Jemima so much attention? It wasn't like she was his daughter or anything! Oh yeah, he'd ADOPTED her. "He must have really loved Demeter to have done that," Rumpleteazer thought bitterly, wondering why no-one ever did anything special for HER. "I'd never leave ya, not like SHE did." She muttered spitefully under her breath, almost hoping he'd overhear.

Cats could do that. Hear the smallest whisper if it were close by. He must have heard, but he was too busy listening to Etcetera, while the striped Angora cross complained energetically about how she could no longer bend over to put her dance shoes on and how keeping her creamy coloured fur tidy was becoming such a struggle.

Rumpleteazer sighed. Munkustrap's daughters were all younger than her, and yet they'd settled down and were starting happy families BEFORE her! It wasn't fair! And what was even more unfair was that the tom she wanted so badly was also the one who hated her the most.

He had less interest in her than if she were a pile of dog faeces, but she could still dream. She imagined him looking at her, giving her a smile like the patient one he now had on for his daughters. A kind of smile that would invite her to draw close and share in the pile of love, as though the sheer sight of her was enough to brighten his mood no matter how dark it was to begin with. But he never looked at her that way, so she had to be content with his rage and the occasional ticked off glare. It was better than being ignored.

It was early afternoon, a time when most Jellicles had completed their morning tasks and were ready for their naps; what was known as the afternoon recharge. Several queens had congregated on the tyre, talking lazily and cuddling up to their favourite Protector. Rumpleteazer kept her distance. She knew they didn't want her around, partly because she wasn't family, and also because of her reputation. No one liked a thief. But her sensitive ears could still pick up every word of their conversation, so she kept herself hidden and listened.

She bit back a tidal wave of envy as Munkustrap lavished his undivided attention upon his daughters, putting an arm around Victoria and Jemima's shoulders, while Electra and Etcetera leaned into him, all smiles and laughter and comparing bump sizes. Jemima was the only one out of them who was not pregnant, but it probably wouldn't be very long before she too was proudly showing her protruding belly to the world. It was enough to make Rumpleteazer feel sick to her stomach.

"Munk's the skinniest out of all of us- apart from you, sweetie."

The elegantly beautiful Bombalurina was reclining just above Munkustrap, her slender paw resting on her own moderately enlarged midsection as though subconsciously trying to protect it from something unseen. She winked at Jemima. "We won't have to wait long, I'm sure. The way Tumble looks at you, I'm surprised it hasn't happened already. And Vic! That has to be one of the neatest bumps I've ever seen! You can't possibly have three in there!"

The pure white Angora smiled and held up four pink-padded digits.

"Four? You were hiding one? Well, that does happen, doesn't it? I honestly can't believe you're about to pop, sweetie, you look simply divine."

"How's everything going for you, Bombi?" Electra enquired.

Concern was evident in the tiger striped queen's face, but Bombalurina merely scoffed. "What? This thing? It's sitting on my bladder quite nicely thank you. Thought I'd come out for some fresh air. It's so stuffy on the ward, the only fun thing to do is eat and have this thing use my ribs as a kick piano."

"She's big, I take it?"

"What did you expect, having a hunk for a father?" Bombi gave a pretend exasperated sigh, looking poignantly at Munkustrap. "Having expelled the competition, she's making full use of the extra space. Jenny says I'll have a job pushing her out."

"You talk about her like she's a cuckoo, Bombi," Etcetera lightly scolded. "I bet she misses her brothers and sisters. Mind you, I don't half get some squabbles going on in here sometimes. Can't wait till they're out and I can start dancing again!"

"We can all agree on that!" Bombi chuckled, laying her black gloved paw on Munkustrap's shoulder. "No offense, darling, but your offspring is making me fat and very uncomfortable."

Munkustrap smirked. "None taken."

"That's when you're meant to disagree."

His expression turned mischievous. "Who says I disagree?"

That earned him a slap on the upper arm. "Such a charmer."

Rumpleteazer had heard rumours that Bombi had complications with her pregnancy, but wasn't sure how severe. Word had it she'd lost kittens and now only had one left. No wonder she was so protective of it.

"Suppose I'd better get back before they send out a search warrant," Bombi said as she got up and yawned.

"Take it easy." Munkustrap reached out and grasped her paw lightly. Their eyes met and something passed between them, not spoken out loud.

Her smile slipped for a second as she spoke quietly, a very slight break in her voice. "I'm trying, handsome." But it was back on again in an instant as she withdrew her paw and waved to the rest. "Chao, ladies! Enjoy your siestas."

Rumpleteazer waited for everyone to disperse. As was often the case, Munkustrap was the last to leave, giving the area a final scan to ensure everything was shipshape before leaping confidently from the tyre. Quietly, Rumpleteazer got up from her hiding place and followed him. It wasn't easy. He doubled back on himself several times, clearly paranoid- or perhaps aware, that he was being followed. She lost sight of him among the junk piles. Luckily, she knew his routine and where he would be at this time of the day. After all, a Protector had to sleep sometime.

Clutching a large package to her chest, Rumpleteazer climbed to his den and crept nervously towards the front door, raising her arm to knock. She hesitated. Could she do this? The knotted wood stared coldly back at her, as though to remind her that she wasn't welcome.

She hesitated a few more times, then raised her paw in a more assertive manner. She COULD do this! Luckily, she didn't have to knock, because the door was suddenly jerked open.

He stood in the doorway, breathing heavily, his chest heaving with the effort, looking like a colossus with his huge arms crossed and his eyes freezing into hers like ice shards. Not for the first time, she felt very small in his presence. "Pro-tec-TOR?" She curtseyed. She couldn't help herself!

"What do you want?" His voice was low and intimidating, making it clear she was the very last person he wanted to see.

It chilled her to the bone, but she didn't care. She made her eyes go very wide and watery. "That's not very polite! Aincha gonna ask me in?"

He forgot how small she was compared to him. He tried blocking the door, his strong arm an impenetrable barrier, but she simply slipped under it. "Most kind of ya!"

Munkustrap threw back his head as though begging the Heaviside layer for assistance, taking a deep antagonized breath to try to calm his very last nerve. Of course, he'd had no intention of sleeping. He'd been doing his push ups; a minimum of a hundred before sleep, a minimum of a hundred upon waking. It helped tire him out and alleviate some pent up aggression, and thanks to her, he had a lot of it to deal with at the moment.

He shut the door. The last thing he needed was for someone to see him standing there with her. "What do you want, Rumpleteazer?" His voice was angry. He could be doing without this.

"What's wrong wi' Teazer?" She cocked her head to the side, trying to look innocent, then carried on looking around, almost daring him to stop her; blatantly trying to get a reaction out of him, invading his personal space, reveling in being in his 'tom cave.'

A mischievous smile crept across her lips as her eyes landed on his bed, which was no more than a quilt with an array of blankets. An acoustic guitar was propped against the wooden wall beside it, of which she couldn't resist plucking a few of the strings, creating a warm hum that cut through the chilly atmosphere. The tension in the room was so great it felt as though anything she touched might instantly freeze solid. "Nice gaff you got ere. Very... _poshe,"_ she commented as she made a great display of moving to the walnut bookcase and marvelling at the volumes. As if she'd never seen them before!

Munkustrap didn't know how many times Mungojerry and Rumpleteazer had broken into his den, but he always knew when they had. No door or lock was a barrier for either of them, and no matter how hard he tried to keep them out (which wasn't very) Rumpleteazer would come and go as she pleased, leaving nothing behind but her scent. Sometimes, she'd role in his sheets. He wouldn't realise until he was lying in them, inadvertently dreaming about her.

"Like your books, don't ya? What's Animal Farm about?"

Munkustrap didn't say anything, just stayed by the door, tail swinging, staring at her coldly as she scanned through his leather bound books and collection of classical records. Normally, he was good at being an asshole to people he didn't like or feel like speaking to. However, no snide remarks came to mind, even though she was in his den, pissing him off considerably with her mere presence, still wearing those ridiculous stockings. She didn't need to say why she was there, it was obvious. His nose told him all he needed to know.

Was the devil there to agonise him? That fiend clung to his back more often than he cared to admit. Sure, he was tempted, like a bear is tempted by honey into a trap. If he fucked her, that would be it. Reputation in ruins. But it wasn't just that. She was the kind of person who wanted what other people had, but didn't care to look after it once the excitement had worn off. Did she even KNOW that kittens were for life? He doubted it. "What's in the package?" The tone of his voice was accusatory rather than curious. He knew her too well!

She shrugged, still trying to read the titles on the book spines. "Oh, just a bit of Argentine joint. Can 'ave it if you want?"

He suddenly remembered he hadn't eaten. Not since yesterday.

"Well? D'you wannit or not? I can 'ear your stomach from over 'ear, so dan't bover tellin me you ain't 'ungry." Grinning a little too broadly, she brought the brown paper package over to the table, untied the string and unwrapped it, taking a long sniff. "Mmm. Cooked to perfec-TION!"

Hunger got the better of Munkustrap. He rolled his eyes and moved away from the door, slumping onto a chair beside the table, not bothering to be elegant about how he sat. This wasn't the ball. He no longer had to pretend to be the gentleman he knew he wasn't.

The meat was in front of him, looking and smelling mouth wateringly good… but so was she. Looking at Teazer suspiciously, he picked up a small piece of meat and gave it a sniff.

"What? You fink I'd ruin a good piece of meat?" She exclaimed, looking affronted.

"I wouldn't put it past you. Why else would you be trying to feed me?"

"Dan't wanna see you wastin' away is all."

She rolled her eyes. "Look, if you're that bovered..." She grabbed a slice and stuffed it into her mouth, chewed and swallowed it. Then opened her mouth wide and stuck out her tongue. "There! 'Appy now?"

Still looking suspicious, Munkustrap popped the meat into his mouth. He wouldn't admit he enjoyed it, not in a million years.

"See?" She said encouragingly. "It's good, innit? Why doncha 'ave some more?"

He helped himself to another slice, tasting iron rich meat, but also something faintly herby. Too late, he realised she was staring at him in a most peculiar way, as though expecting something to happen and unable to contain her excitement about it.

"Hmm... It's not bad," he muttered thoughtfully as he picked his tooth. "Strange flavour combination."

"Oh, right?" She'd apparently been holding her breath.

"Yeah," he continued. "I'm not sure that nip goes that well with beef."

The expression on her face changed to confusion, then to sudden horror as he launched himself from his seat, grabbed her by the throat and slammed her back onto the table. The sound of her head hitting the wood made a dull cracking sound, the small gasp that escaped from her mouth was like music to his ears. "It's not what you think..." She barely gasped.

The drug was already having an affect. Her eyes were rolling slightly, her pupils dilated into black orbs. He suspected his pupils had done the same, but knew they wouldn't be as wide as hers. Classic catnip. "Nice try, Rumpleteazer. I'll give you a one for effort, but if having me drooling on the floor was part of your plan, I'm afraid you'll have to do better."

She still looked confused, disbelieving. "Why didn't...?"

"Why didn't it work?" Munkustrap chuckled, a vicious grin creeping across his features. "I'll let you into a little secret, shall I? Once upon a time, nip was my drug of choice. That was before I went for something stronger!"

For the first time in her life, Rumpleteazer was both shocked AND speechless. She mouthed things, but no words came out. She was clearly having trouble believing what he was saying and he found it faintly amusing, having the upper hand for a change. "But surely, he is lying? Munkustrap would _never_ do drugs." Munkustrap mimicked her high voice and then switched back to his usual low, menacing tone. "Hard to believe, isn't it? But there you are, and now you know. We all have dirty secrets. Skeletons in our closets. That's one of mine."

Having gotten over the shock relatively quickly, Rumpleteazer suddenly looked defiant. "What if I tell?"

"You could," Munkustrap agreed. "Or I could kill you right now. No one would know, least of all care."

Rumpleteazer rarely got to see Munkustrap this up close. His entire body was built, taut muscles, the epitome of masculine beauty, adorned with a flowing cascade of silver and black fur that grew thickest from his chest down to the abs of his torso. She traced the bulging muscles of his biceps with her eyes, wanting so badly to touch them.

She knew she should've been terrified, not to mention hurt by his cruel words, but for the weight of his body pressing into hers, his musk in her nostrils, the pounding of her heart and a sense of her body opening up. She was completely wet.

 _You can have me right now,_ she silently begged. _Any way you want. My body is yours._

If it wasn't for his iron grip pinned against her throat, she'd have tried to kiss him. It was torture, having his lips so close, yet so far. And as though to tantalise her further, she felt something harden, jabbing into her inner thigh. He was turned on by this?

She swallowed painfully and tried to hook her legs around his hips, trying to gain some sensation, her cunt pulsing desperately for him to fill her up and end her longing. "Do you think about it?" She ventured, sneaking her tail up his inner thigh, causing him to exhale sharply.

"Think about what?"

"Last year? You smackin' me arse. Cos I do. I think about it a lot."

He chuckled coldly, rubbing his thumb over the side of her jaw, his eyes hungry, like that of a predator deciding how best to finish off its prey. "You think I spend my time fantasising about a petty criminal and trickster? How stupid do you think I am?"

She was trying to shake her head. "I don't think you're stupid."

"Neither are you." Releasing her, he forcefully unhooked her legs and turned his back on her. "You know it would never work between us. For more reasons than one."

She stayed where she was, massaging her throat. She'd been rejected, the pain in her chest and emptiness in her loins far worse than the soreness in her neck and head. "I'll do anything..." Her voice was rasping, like paper. She sat up, her voice trembling even more. "I'll be anything you want me to be!" It sounded futile and desperate, but she didn't care.

He didn't need to see the tears in her eyes. He'd heard enough. The break in the voice, the emotional blackmail. He didn't need that shit. "Oh good. Then you can make yourself disappear."

"Munk please-"

He turned and snarled, gesturing where she should go. "Door's that way! Don't make me throw you out!"

Her face changed, her hurt turning to fury. Such empty threats, discarding her like she was nothing more than a piece of rubbish? NO ONE treated Rumpleteazer like that! Well... they did. But it only bothered her when HE did it. No. He was going to be sorry. He didn't scare her! She would show him she was more than just a piece of rubbish!

"Or what?" She provoked, her voice turning to a sultry whisper. "Big Protector gonna spank me?"

She didn't regret saying that, imagining the mental image she'd just placed in his head. To her disappointment, it didn't show up on his face. If anything, his expression darkened, turning colder than a granite block.

_Tough nut, eh? Even the toughest nut can crack under the right amount of pressure._

"Think you're too good for me, do ya?" Wearing a succubus grin, she shifted her arse onto the table and spread her legs. Licking her lips, she stroked her paws down her thighs, signalling a clear path for him to stare at, which he couldn't stop himself doing.

She watched his Adam's apple move painfully. "Teazer, what are you doing?"

Wasn't it obvious? He might be strong enough to crush her ribs with a single arm, but he was still a male, still afflicted with the same weakness that they all were.

She could tell it was having an affect, but decided to up the anti a little. Parting her lips, she dipped her fingers into her glistening pussy, uttering a small moan and softly breathing out his name.

"Stop." It was a command, or was it pleading?

"You tellin me you don't wanna taste of this? You never did keep that promise of yours." She dropped to the floor, letting the words linger on her tongue while she moved closer.

His breath quickened. For the first time ever, Munkustrap felt helpless, as though the rug had been swept beneath his feet. Every attempt to remain calm was betrayed by his body, by his parted lips and hypnotized gaze. How was he to handle this? Now that she had him like a fly in a black widow's web, invoking things he struggled to keep buried, awakening a tormented hungry beast in him that was never truly asleep to begin with.

She was dangerously close, enough for her scent to fill his nostrils and make every nerve in his body come to life. "That's close enough," he warned her in a menacing voice, but she ignored him, moving to stand in front of him, allowing her breasts to brush against his abs.

He stared at her face, at the lips he could still feel on his, while she focused on his body, as though she was conducting the chaotic battle going on in there. He was aware of her beauty, or perhaps it was the catnip playing tricks on him? The dusting of freckles on her nose, her slender waist, her hips that had grown ever more shapely as the year passed. If he were a mindless savage he'd have pushed her to the floor by now and fucked her senseless in more ways than one, but he had to control himself; and he could, to a certain extent. As long as she didn't touch him.

Of course, she knew all his weaknesses. Smiling wickedly, she splayed her paw across his chest, feeling the soft warmth of his fur and the racing of his heart. She stroked down his centre, feeling his hard abs beneath her fingers, how the muscles flexed as they reacted to her touch.

There was hatred in his eyes. "Don't!"

"What's the matter? Afraid you might like it?" She meant to go lower, but was stopped by his paw that wrapped around her wrist, finding a nerve at the base of her thumb and pinching it, hard, pulling her hand away.

"Enough!" He spoke sharply.

"Ow! Munk, that 'urts! Fuck!" She cried out as he pinched harder, her face screwing up with agony as she tried to twist out of his grasp, her struggle against him futile. No matter how much she tried, he was infinitely stronger.

"I warned you, but you chose to keep playing games," he said through gritted teeth while he part led, part dragged her like a naughty kitten towards the door, dumping her, hissing and cursing, outside on the doorstep. Now there really were tears in her eyes, her face ablaze with fury as she got straight back up.

"Answer me one thing, yeah? ONE THING! You give em so much: Deme, Bombi, Jazzie, Tanti, Jenny, Jelly, Cassie... Why not me, eh?"

He gave an unpleasant laugh, her jealousy as obvious as an open wound. She was in pain, the kind that could only be released by friction and exchange of bodily fluids, and it served her right! "That's the problem, Teazer. You think of no one but yourself. Why would I want to fuck a dirty little thief and have her raise my kittens as criminals? Better you try for a common stray!"

She was struck by his words, reeling at the cruelness of them. She swallowed. "You know what? Maybe I will! You're a piece of shit, Munkustrap! What would Jazzie say if she saw you treating a queen like dirt?"

Was she still there? He showed her his fangs. "Give it up. You're not wanted here. Do yourself a favour and fuck off back to your pearls and don't ever come here again!"

"Don't worry I'm going! You won't see me no more, but you'll wish you 'ad!"

Turning her back so he wouldn't see her angry tears, she waved him her middle claw as she stormed off, presumably back to Victoria Grove.

Munkustrap glared after her, then shut the door, heaving a tremendous sigh. He'd gotten rid of her at last, hopefully for good! Why did he feel like shit all of a sudden?


End file.
